


As Your Ability Allows

by KuriKuri



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Disability, F/M, Getting Together, Physical Disability, Talk of Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1577915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKuri/pseuds/KuriKuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Raleigh Becket wakes up, it’s with the horrible, undeniable knowledge that Yancy is gone.</p><p>It’s not until the doctor comes to talk to him that he realizes he’s also lost his arm. </p><p>(Prompt: Raleigh's arm had to be amputated after Knifehead, but he still wants to be a pilot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Your Ability Allows

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this got a lot longer than I anticipated. I had fun writing it, though! Please know that I am not disabled, though, so please inform me if I have made any errors and I will correct them ASAP. 
> 
> My two main information sources were (although there were a few others too):  
> http://science.howstuffworks.com/prosthetic-limb.htm  
> http://www.amputee-coalition.org/military-instep/reclaiming-independence.html
> 
> Trigger Warnings: disability and talk of major injury, some ableism and talk of ableism, talk of mental health issues (bipolar disorder, depression), canon character death (non-graphic)

When Raleigh Becket wakes up, it’s with the horrible, undeniable knowledge that Yancy is gone. The emptiness in his mind – in a way it hasn’t been since before he could ever remember – screams that fact louder than the crumpled wreckage of Gipsy Danger ever could. His very heart and soul feel like they’re tearing themselves apart. He spends an immeasurable amount of time sobbing, sprawled on his back in the small hospital bed as his eyes stare blearily up at the stark white ceiling, drowning in his own emotions and salty tears. 

It’s not until the doctor comes to talk to him that he realizes he’s also lost his arm. 

\---

Raleigh learns pretty quickly that there aren’t that many job options for an ex-Jaeger pilot with only one arm. Thankfully it was his non-dominant left, so at least he doesn’t have to completely relearn everything, although he learns that there’s still plenty for him to struggle with. In the end, he finds himself in front of a hiring manager for construction work on the Wall, who just glances at his (lack of) arm, stares at him, and then says, “It’s your funeral,” before handing him the employment forms. 

Working on the Wall makes life even more difficult, and not in the way you might expect. It’s hard work, and for what? Raleigh knows Kaiju well enough from firsthand experience to tell that they’ll bowl it down at record speed and won’t even break a sweat. Sometimes, when he’s unable to sleep at night, he stares up at nothing and wonders how humanity has come to this. After all, they’re relying on a wall built by a one-armed, emotionally compromised, former Jaeger pilot. Everyday another Wall worker dies and Raleigh wonders if it wouldn’t have been better for him to go down with Yancy. His psychologist would have a field day if she knew. 

(Gabriela is a sweet woman who’s more stubborn than most pilots, and Raleigh always feels bad about taking up her time, especially when he can’t afford to pay her anything substantial. Of course, she always insists that there’s no need, that the fact that he and Yancy had stopped Yamarashi before it had destroyed her home city of LA is enough. And as much as he would like to protest, Raleigh knows that his measly Wall worker’s salary isn’t enough and that, although he’s doing better, stopping their sessions so soon after learning to accept Yancy’s death would be a bad idea.)

To say that he’s surprised to find Marshall Stacker Pentecost wanting to speak to him five years after he left the PPDC is an understatement. Nevertheless Raleigh decides to humor him, because hey, it’s actually kind of nice to see a familiar face. Not that he hasn’t made any new friends since then, but none of them know what it’s like to be in a Jaeger. 

“You want _me_ of all people back out in a Jaeger?” Raleigh asks after Pentecost has done his little song and dance. 

“All the other mark three pilots are dead,” Pentecost answers bluntly, although his tone holds no distaste, as if even if there were a few other live pilots, he still would have considered Raleigh. 

“Look, I can’t – I – ” Raleigh starts, shaking his head, but Pentecost cuts him off. 

“You lost your brother, Mr. Becket, not your life,” he says, which is certainly not what Raleigh expected him to say, because most everyone sees the arm before they see the mind. 

“I can’t let anyone back in my head,” Raleigh protests, glancing away from Pentecost, not meeting his eyes. “I just can’t.” 

“Mr. Becket, before you go, I have one question to ask you,” Pentecost says as Raleigh turns his back to him. “Would you rather die here, or in a Jaeger?” 

Raleigh pauses. He pauses and closes his eyes for a little longer than a standard blink, and all he can think about are those long nights – the ones where he stares up at his leaky apartment ceiling and wonders if he’s going to die on the Wall tomorrow. The ones where he wonders if he should have gone down with Gipsy Danger and Yancy. When he looks back at Pentecost he thinks that Pentecost knows exactly what to say because the man knows what it’s like to wonder the same thing.

He wonders if Pentecost will die in a Jaeger. (He probably will.)

\---

Even though Raleigh’s never been to the Hong Kong shatterdome, the moment he sees it he knows he’s home. The building looks like a prison, but the Wall felt more like a prison than any shatterdome ever could. Humanity thinks they’re building a prison for the Kaiju, but they’re really just building a prison for themselves. 

The rain swirls around them, and it should feel foreboding, but Raleigh’s gotten used to the rain. Not that he likes it, particularly. He follows Marshall Pentecost out of the helicopter as the man makes a beeline for a young Japanese woman waiting for them on the helipad, looking surprisingly un-windswept as she stands there with her neat black umbrella. She smiles softly at Pentecost and hands him another identical umbrella, which he opens and makes a move to hand to Raleigh, only to pause awkwardly as he realizes that Raleigh’s only free hand is occupied by his rucksack. So instead, Pentecost tries to cover up the slip by holding the umbrella over Raleigh for him. 

Raleigh appreciates the effort, at least. 

“Mr. Becket, this is Mako Mori, one of our brightest,” Pentecost introduces, and Raleigh blinks as he detects an undertone of pride that he’s never heard in the man’s voice before, despite the years they’ve known each other. “She’s in charge of the Mark 2 restoration program and she personally picked your copilot candidates.”

Raleigh tries to give her a polite smile, because it seems strange to introduce himself to a woman who probably knows more about him than most people he’s talked to in the past year. 

Then, she starts speaking in Japanese, and Raleigh, who wanted to like her (really, he did!), is only barely able to keep himself from scowling. He really should be used to this by now. It’s not like people haven’t recognized him as a semi-famous – at least in Alaska – ex-Jaeger pilot, and this is always their first response – that, because of his arm, he “isn’t what they expected.” It rankles, though, even though he’s proven to himself time and again that he can still do what he’s always done, just what a slightly different method. When Pentecost had invited him back, he hadn’t hesitated because he thought he couldn’t physically do it, but because he wasn’t sure he could mentally do it. 

However, when he replies, in his own rusty, American-accented Japanese, she smiles. Mako Mori smiles a wide smile which brightens her entire face, although she does look a little embarrassed, and Raleigh is thoroughly confused (and maybe a little smitten). She apologizes, he accepts, and he thinks that maybe this won’t be as bad as he’d thought it would be. 

“I will eliminate the candidates who cannot pilot left from the list,” she says smoothly, scribbling something that Raleigh can’t read on the sheet of paper at the top of her clipboard (because although he can speak some Japanese, Raleigh has always been thoroughly confused by their writing system – a fact that Yancy had teased him mercilessly for).

He considers thanking her, unsure exactly how to respond because he’s still more than a little annoyed by her earlier commentary, but he appreciates her new effort. However, before he can really make up his mind about how to respond, Pentecost is already striding off into the Shatterdome, Mako close on his heels, and Raleigh has to scramble to keep up – not as much as two other men, one in an overlarge parka, have to, though.

The one in the parka makes Raleigh stop short. He’s trying not to stare, but he’s not entirely successful. Parka Guy doesn’t seem to notice the way Raleigh’s eyes are fixed on his leg and the cane clutched in his hand, though, because he’s too busy arguing with the other strange man beside him. 

This is the first time that Raleigh’s ever seen any other disabled person working for the PPDC. Well, there was one tech with mild asthma and there have been a few with unusually strong glasses prescriptions, but he’s never come across another PPDC member with such an obvious disability. It’s strangely comforting, and Raleigh’s suddenly hyperaware of his own missing arm. 

“Mr. Becket, this is our K-Science division, Dr. Gottlieb and Dr. Geiszler,” Pentecost says, nodding to the two men in the elevator, one bustling eagerly around the Kaiju specimens and the other standing patiently, although Raleigh doesn’t miss his wince as he puts a little too much pressure on his leg. 

“Call me Newt,” the overexcited one announces, smiling broadly at Raleigh. “Only my mother calls me doctor.” 

And it looks for a moment like Geiszler – Newt – whoever – is about to extend his hand to shake, but it turns out that he was just moving to take off his soaked jacket. Raleigh’s grateful for this. He hates those awkward moments when someone politely holds out their right hand, only to pause and pull it back, despite the fact that he’s still more than capable of shaking hands. His right hand is, in fact, intact. 

Raleigh smiles politely and nods, although it’s slightly more directed at Dr. Gottlieb – the scientist with the leg. He’s pleased when the scientist (actually, he’s a mathematician, apparently) glances over at his absent left arm and smiles back in some semblance of solidarity. Of course, then it all goes downhill as Newt rolls up his sleeves and proceeds to spew some bullshit about wanting to see a live Kaiju up close and personal. In a way, Raleigh wishes that he would so he gets it through his thick skull that this isn’t just some sterilized experiment. 

When they leave the elevator, though, he can’t help but fall into step beside Dr. Gottlieb, slowing his gait to match the awkward one of the mathematician. 

“So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking,” he starts, looking at Gottlieb uncertainly, although he continues when Gottlieb doesn’t cut him off, “did you also get caught in a Kaiju attack?” 

“Nothing so dramatic,” Gottlieb answers, shaking his head, sounding a little embarrassed, actually. “Just MS.” 

“ _Just_ MS?” Raleigh repeats, his eyebrows going up, letting out a low whistle. “Damn. I’m sorry.” 

“And your arm?” Gottlieb asks, politely returning the inquiry. 

“Knifehead,” Raleigh answers, trying to keep his tone from slipping into somberness. 

“Ah. I’m sorry for your loss,” Gottlieb says, and from his voice and his expression as he looks at Raleigh, the Jaeger pilot can tell that he’s not just referring to the lack of arm anymore. 

“Not your fault,” Raleigh replies, shrugging and ducking his head slightly. “So, ah, any tips for navigating this place?”

Gottlieb is quiet for a moment, but Raleigh can tell that it’s because he’s thinking, not because he doesn’t want to talk. 

“Well, I’m not sure how much my input will help you, considering the difference in our situations,” Gottlieb answers, shifting his cane in his grip. “People are fairly polite about it, although I would avoid Donaldson in engineering and Hueng in communications if possible. They’re not too vocal about their opinions of our… _usefulness_ but they’re patronizing enough that it’s worth staying away from them.”

Raleigh listens carefully, making a mental note of the names that Gottlieb has listed, even if it’s just to know to smile politely and brace himself when they invariable make an offensive comment, consciously or not. Of course, he’s not afraid of calling them on the carpet, but, honestly, he doesn’t want to create too much tension as a newcomer in an already stressful time. 

“And if you need anything, medical is completely equipped to handle these sorts of issues,” Gottlieb continues. “My primary care physician is Dr. Yuen, although our head neurologist is Dr. Kiu, and my physical therapist is Maggie Tong.” 

“I haven’t had a PT doc since I lost the arm,” Raleigh says, shrugging. 

“Well, the PPDC will probably want to have you examined before putting you back in a Jaeger,” Gottlieb answers, non-judgmental. “I find that it helps, but as I said before, our situations are quite different.”

“I’ll swing by anyway,” Raleigh replies politely. 

“And, ah, perhaps you could ‘swing by’ the lab, too,” Gottlieb says a little too quickly, blushing slightly, and it takes a moment for Raleigh to understand what he’s saying, but he smiles widely when he gets it. 

“Yeah, of course,” Raleigh answers, smiling, although he’s momentarily frustrated that he can’t offer Gottlieb a handshake, what with his only hand occupied by his bag. 

“Becket!” Stacker Pentecost’s familiarly impatient voice yells, making Raleigh glance up to find Ms. Mori and the Marshall already at the other end of the hallway. 

“See you then,” Raleigh continues, glancing back at the mathematician for one more moment before jogging off to catch up with the other two, but not quickly enough to miss Gottlieb’s goodbye. 

He’s pretty sure he’s grinning stupidly for the rest of the Shatterdome tour, but although he didn’t have any serious doubts about going back to the PPDC based on his arm, it’s still a major confidence boost to know that he’s not the only one with a major disability here, even if Gottlieb isn’t actually out in a Jaeger. Yeah – he’s home. 

(Even if Yancy’s not here.)

\---

Just as Gottlieb predicted, later that afternoon Raleigh finds himself sitting up on an exam table as a doctor – Dr. Yuen, actually, the one Gottlieb mentioned – checks him over, carefully looking over the spot where only a bit of his shoulder remains, nicely healed, but still not the prettiest thing ever. Raleigh knows that he shouldn’t feel self conscious about this anymore, but, well, it’s been quite a while since anyone’s seen him without his shirt like this. 

“Well, from your charts, it looks like you’re due for a Td booster and your second MMR dose,” Dr. Yuen says, looking away from him for a moment to check through some electronic files on her tablet. 

“Td and MMR?” Raleigh asks, raising one eyebrow in question and trying to lean over to peer at what she’s scanning through. 

“Tetanus and diphtheria, and measles, mumps, and rubella,” she clarifies before looking back up at him with an amused smile on her lips. “Basically, I get to prick you with two needles. Or, rather, Lau does.”

“I thought I was supposed to be done with shots,” Raleigh sighs, although there’s no real bite to it – not even annoyance, really. 

“Honey, I get to give you your PPSV23 when you’re sixty five, and you should be getting an influenza vaccination every year,” Dr. Yuen replies, clearly amused. “It never ends.” 

Raleigh laughs at that, catching himself off guard. Sure, he’d laughed plenty of times since he left the PPDC five years ago, but it hasn’t come out that easily since Yancy died. 

“As for your shoulder, the muscle is a bit shrunken from disuse, but overall it looks remarkably healthy,” Dr. Yuen adds, the petite Chinese woman smiling up at him. “Dr. Tawil, our main Orthopedist, should be by in a few minutes to check it out properly, though. Oh, and do you have your prosthesis with you? He’ll probably want to see it.” 

This question, however, wipes the smile from Raleigh’s face and he has to resist the urge to fidget, embarrassed. 

“I don’t actually own one,” he admits, playing with the edge of the paper covering the exam table. “I mean, my insurance would only cover about a third of the cost and with the price of prostheses these days and the fact that I’d just lost my job, I couldn’t really afford it. And I, uh, I used Yancy’s life insurance to cover most of the surgery and some of the psychiatry bills.” 

Dr. Yuen is clearly at least a little surprised, but she takes this revelation in stride, rapidly tapping on her tablet again and nodding along with his words. Raleigh can’t help but notice the angry way she presses her lips together in a tight line.

“Well, the PPDC will foot the bill this time,” she says, and Raleigh blinks in surprise at that statement. “I’ll schedule you for a fitting with Dr. Tseung. It’ll take a bit for him to make you one, but ever since the Kaiju started attacking the demand for prostheses has risen drastically, and the time it takes to get one is much shorter than it used to be.” 

“I – thank you,” Raleigh replies, bowing his head slightly in appreciation. 

“Hey, don’t thank me yet,” Dr. Yuen laughs, shooting him a lopsided smile. “From what I hear, learning how to use one’s a bitch. Although with the way they’re incorporating Jaeger technology these days, the fact that you’re a pilot should make it a bit easier.” 

“I suppose,” Raleigh says, managing a small smile. 

“Oh, hey, you also mentioned a psychiatrist, didn’t you?” the petite woman asks, looking down to flip through her tablet again, searching for a certain file. 

“Ah, yeah,” Raleigh replies, a little hesitant, not because he’s self conscious about needing psychiatric help – because, fuck, who wouldn’t after losing their brother in such a way? – but because although he knows a bit about patient confidentiality and all, he’s not sure if Dr. Yuen can see Gabriela’s notes, and he vividly recalls a few particularly bad days in which he’d spent almost the entire session trashing the PPDC, trying to blame them for what happened, even though he knew it wasn’t really their fault. 

“Dr. Gabriela Jiménez, yes?” Dr. Yuen clarifies, pausing in her search to glance up at him again. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to go snooping through your files. That’s between you and Dr. Jiménez. Well, and Dr. Mishchenko, if you want to set up a session with her. Dr. Jiménez did leave a note here suggesting that you stay in therapy for at least a couple more months, and Dr. Mishchenko is the leading expert in drift psychology. It’s up to you, though.”

“No, that sounds good,” Raleigh replies, still fiddling with the paper stretched across the exam table. 

“You know, I believe that she has an opening at four today,” the Chinese woman continues. “She mentioned something to me about a patient canceling this morning.” 

“Okay,” Raleigh says, although he can already tell that it’s going to be at least a little bit weird talking to someone other than Gabriela. 

“Great,” Dr. Yuen answers, jotting yet another note down in her tablet, only pausing when the sound of someone knocking on the door permeates the room. “That’s probably Dr. Tawil, right on time, as always.”

She goes to let him in and Raleigh can’t help but smile a bit, because he’s still a bit of a kid at heart and the thought of Dr. Tawil and Dr. Tseung fitting him for a prosthesis can’t help but make him think of how when he was a little kid he’d once decided that cyborgs were the _coolest_. 

(Yancy had, of course, said that it would be way better to be a complete robot. The ensuing argument had lasted for hours until their mother had bribed them with pie.)

\---

Raleigh reaches up to knock on the psychiatrist’s – or psychologist’s, he’s not entirely sure which – door (Dr. Mishchenko, if he remembers correctly). However, before he’s actually able to make contact, the door swings inward and he nearly trips over the smaller man who’s chosen that unfortunate moment to walk through the door. Of course, while the two manage to avoid running into each other, the other man still manages to drop his notebook and a pill bottle which rolls along the linoleum floor. 

“Whoa, sorry man – didn’t see you there,” the other man – Dr. Geiszler, actually, because Raleigh wouldn’t forget those tattoos anywhere. “I’ll just – you know – ”

Geiszler doesn’t bother to finish whatever sentence he’s trying to make out of the jumbled words rapidly spilling out of his mouth as Raleigh stoops down to pick up the notebook – actually some sort of calendar or planner from the looks of it. It’s fallen open to what’s probably the most recent entry, and he’s not really trying to read or examine it, but he can’t help but notice “LATEST MANIC EPISODE” written in thick, all caps letters on one page. 

Before he’s able to even touch the book, however, Geiszler lets out an odd squawk and snatches up his planner, slamming it shut and clutching it tightly. Raleigh raises his eyebrows slightly and blinks, surprised at the scientist’s reaction but dismisses the response as Geiszler just not wanting his privacy invaded. Of course, Geiszler’s already grabbing his fallen pill bottle and scurrying off before Raleigh can gather the rest of his thoughts. 

Raleigh looks after the odd scientist for a moment, shrugs to himself, and then enters the office. 

\---

The session he has with Dr. Mishchenko is nicely, well, therapeutic, for a lack of a better word. It’s less productive than usual, but that’s to be expected, considering he has to learn how to open up to a complete stranger again. She has Gabriela’s notes, which help, but Raleigh still kind of wishes that he could have flown Gabriela out with him. Iryna – she’s okay with him calling her that – is nice enough, though. 

Of course, when he gets back to his quarters, he finds Ms. Mako Mori waiting for him, and the ensuing conversation makes him grateful that he’s had the session, even though Mako is just being bluntly truthful (painfully so, even).

Her, “I don’t think you’re the right man for this mission,” rings in his ears, and he ducks his head slightly, trying not to let her words get to him. Actually, what she says is a relief in some ways, because in no way does she ever reference his arm – and not in an avoidance type way either. 

“Well, thank you for your honesty,” Raleigh replies after a moment, his expression sober but his voice warm. “You might be right. But one day, when you’re a pilot,” – because she will be, Raleigh can already tell that much – “you’re gonna see that in combat…”

He trails off, shaking his head slightly and glancing down at the photos of him and Yancy clutched awkwardly in his hand. He wishes that he could sift through them properly, but he’d have to put them down on the desk inside his room to do that. 

“… you make decisions,” Raleigh finishes once he finds the right words, “and you have to live with the consequences. That’s what I’m trying to do.” 

And there – there’s the split second where her eyes dart to his empty shirt sleeve, then to the photographs clutched in his hands, and he can tell that she doesn’t completely understand it yet, but she’s getting there. Even her small glance at where his arm should be makes him want to pull back a little, feeling irrationally self conscious, but he doesn’t so much as twitch. They stay like that for a moment, assessing each other, before Raleigh finally turns away, retreating back into his room, pulling a fresh set of clothes out of his bag. 

He expects Mako to close the door as she leaves, though. Which, apparently, she’s too flustered or annoyed to do. Of course, he already has his shirt off when he realizes this, his scarred stump of a shoulder displayed for all to see. He can’t help but notice Mako staring, though. 

And he can’t for the life of him tell if it’s in a good way or a bad way. 

\---

The real challenge doesn’t come until two days later, when Raleigh has to spar with his copilot candidates. 

But, well, the thing is that it’s much less of a challenge than he thought it’d be. He’s kept in shape since leaving the PPDC, and he was in enough angry-at-the-world-and-himself bar fights in the year – or, rather, years – since Yancy’s death that he knows how to fight with one arm without completely throwing off his balance. 

His copilot candidates, on the other hand, don’t seem to know what to make of it. Either they come at him too tentatively, afraid that they’re going to break him or something, or they come at him with intent but with no idea of how his lack of arm is going to change his center of mass and fighting style. It’s rather hard to have a conversation with someone who can’t even begin to understand the words you’re saying. 

“Stop,” Mako’s voice commands, ringing through the room. 

Raleigh pulls away from the fight, his back rigid as he turns to look at the younger woman. He’s noticed the unhappy expression that’s been glued to her face since he first started fighting, and he’s a little relieved that she’s finally saying something about it. He opens his mouth to reply, but she cuts him off. 

“Is this a game to you, Mr. Becket?” she demands, her tone distinctly annoyed, and Raleigh is taken aback, not having expected that reaction. 

“Sorry?” he says, unsure what she’s talking about. 

“You could have taken all of them two moves earlier,” she retorts, and Raleigh blinks at her in surprise. 

He certainly hadn’t expected _that_ to be her criticism. 

“You think so?” he asks, skeptical, although he knows that there’s at least a certain amount of truth in her words. 

“I know so,” she replies confidently, her voice unwavering, and it’s all Raleigh can do to not shiver at her tone. 

“Can we change it up and give her a turn?” Raleigh asks, beginning to grow frustrated, turning to Pentecost this time, motioning with his stick. 

“No,” Pentecost answers firmly, much to Raleigh’s annoyance and disappointment. “Stick to the list of those with drift compatibility.” 

“Which _I_ have, Marshall!” Mako protests, taking Raleigh aback, because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her talk back to Pentecost before. 

“This is also about a physical compatibility – ” Pentecost argues, and Raleigh can see the way the Japanese woman’s shoulders tense with anger and frustration as she glares at the Marshall.

“What, you don’t think that your brightest can take on a one armed ex-pilot?” Raleigh says, and he knows that both Gabriela and Iryna would have something to say about that comment if they heard it. 

It does the job though, and Pentecost looks at him for a moment before nodding to Mako, motioning her forward. Raleigh can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline as she steps onto the mats, placing her shoes neatly to the side. 

“I’m not going to dial it down for you,” Raleigh says as they walk to their respective sides. 

“Then neither will I,” she replies, and Raleigh knows that she absolutely means it. 

She steps forward, moving fluidly, gracefully, but Raleigh can’t help but focus on how she begins with only one hand – her right hand – on her stick. If she’s right handed, they might be less compatible than he thought. 

Raleigh steps forward, maneuvering his stick with his right hand deftly. It bothers him that he can’t use all of the moves and techniques that he used to be able to, but he’s noting if not adaptable. Mako doesn’t move, though, so Raleigh moves in, gaining a point with relative ease. For a moment he feels disappointed, because she said that she wouldn’t hold back, but that moment is really only a split second, because suddenly he finds himself dropping back into a defensive stance as she knocks his stick aside and gains a point for herself. 

“One-one,” she says, and Raleigh feels an uncomfortable wave of heat wash over him, because, god, that is an _attractive_ voice. 

The dance continues, and Raleigh can tell that his one-handed style is throwing her off. He can’t block in the same way and so much more of his defense is based on deflection. She’s catching on, though, and at a speed that far surpasses that of his other opponents. He can feel them falling into sync, can feel her anticipating his moves. But not quickly enough, he thinks, as he flips her over his shoulder deftly. 

What he isn’t expecting, though, is for her to roll under him and grab his leg, effectively trapping him. Most of his opponents go for his left side – his unguarded side – and for her to so easily determine one of his actual weaknesses…

“Enough,” Pentecost demands, breaking Raleigh from his thoughts – and Mako’s grip. “I’ve seen what I need to see.” 

“So have I,” Raleigh says, a little breathless, a wide grin practically splitting his face in two. “She’s my copilot.” 

He wants to reach out his hand, to place it on her shoulder or to twine their fingers together, but he can’t do that while holding onto his stick. Mako looks over at him, her cheeks flushed both from exertion and, hopefully, happiness. 

“That’s not going to work,” Pentecost replies, his expression carefully neutral. 

“Why not?” Raleigh asks, equal parts confused and angry as he tears his gaze away from the woman standing beside him. 

“Because I said so, Mr. Becket,” Pentecost answers, and Raleigh feels a wave of childish frustration wash over him. “I’ve made my decision. Report to the Shatterdome in two hours to find out who your copilot will be.” 

With that, Pentecost leaves. 

\---

Raleigh stands in a shower stall, letting the too hot water run over his skin. He really should be washing his hair right now – he doesn’t have time to doddle – but Mako’s words keep ringing through his ears: 

“It’s not obedience, Mr. Becket. It’s respect.” 

He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind, splashing water everywhere in the process. He grabs his shampoo bottle – generic stuff, the cheapest he could find that wasn’t just soap – and squirts some directly into his hair, closing his eyes so that it doesn’t drip into them before putting the bottle back down and using his hand to lather his hair to the best of his ability. 

After that, it doesn’t take him long to finish his shower and dry off before changing into a clean set of clothing. Then he stops by his room again to drop off his shower supplies and grab his favorite blue sweater, but he can’t help but linger, his eyes taking in all of the details of the photographs that he’s pasted to his walls. He reaches for it and lets his fingers brush over the glossy surface. 

He wishes he had more than just the photograph. The impact of the fact that he’s really going to let someone else into his mind now – a stranger – finally hits him full force. He can’t help but think that this would be so much easier if Mako was his copilot, not just because they’re drift compatible, but because she’s seen all of these photographs before. 

Raleigh sighs, letting his fingers fall away from the picture as he turns to leave. Perhaps he should have scheduled a therapy session with Dr. Mishchenko before drifting again for the first time in five years. Too late now.

When he leaves his room, he glances at Mako’s doorway before looking away again and starting down the hallway. He gets halfway to the elevator before turning back. He walks up to her door and holds up his fist to knock, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. After all, what would he say? 

Raleigh sighs and turns away again, frustrated with his own inability and cowardice. He continues down the hallway, but he’s distracted, which is why he accidentally runs into Marshall Pentecost when he tries to enter the elevator as the other man tries to exit it. 

“Sorry, Sir!” he blurts out, his cheeks reddening as he tries to straighten himself, thrown off balance. 

Pentecost shoots him a disdainful look, but doesn’t make any other comment, brushing past him and continuing on to wherever his destination is. Raleigh ducks his head and tries to make his face stop burning in embarrassment, but he isn’t entirely successful. 

As he looks down at his shirt, he sees a bright spot of blood on it, one that he’s sure wasn’t there earlier. He touches it, his brow furrowing as he finds that it’s still wet. He looks back down the hallway, but Pentecost has already disappeared from sight. 

\---

As Raleigh waits in Gipsy Danger’s cockpit, he’s not expecting Mako Mori to walk in and take the place beside him. 

He’s also not expecting their first drift to go quite as badly as it actually does.

(Honestly, he expected worse.) 

\---

Raleigh waits in the hall outside of Pentecost’s office, Mako to his left. They don’t talk, mostly because Raleigh isn’t sure what to say and Mako looks like she doesn’t want to say anything. He thinks he should say something, though, if only to drown out the sounds of Chuck Hansen yelling on the other side of the office door. 

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to speak, but before he’s able to get any words out, Herc Hansen wrenches the door open and Chuck storms out into the hallway before the door is pulled shut again. Both Mako and Raleigh look at him for a moment, and his cheeks grow red, from anger or embarrassment Raleigh’s not sure. 

“You two are a goddamned _disgrace_ ,” he spits, halfway between an angry cat and a scared puppy dog. “You’re gonna get us all killed, and I, personally, want to come back from this mission in one piece – something which _you_ don’t seem to be very good at, Raleigh.” 

Raleigh keeps his eyes trained straight ahead, not bother to acknowledge the man insulting him. He grits his teeth, hoping the action isn’t obvious, but he doesn’t say anything. After all, it’s not like this is the first time he’s heard a comment like this. Oh, it’s still hard – _very_ hard – to let the slide, but, honestly, he doesn’t want to get into a confrontation so soon after messing up in such a big way. 

“Stop, _now_ ,” Mako demands, making Raleigh blink and glance at her as she steps forward towards Chuck. 

He wants to put up his hand, to hold her back because they can’t afford to get mixed up in this fight right now, but she’s on his left side and, well, he has no hand to hold her back with. Mako’s up close in Chuck’s personal space now, and although Raleigh doesn’t think that Chuck will punch her, he’s not so sure about Mako. 

“Mako – ” Raleigh starts, his tone a warning, but she doesn’t even bother to look at him. 

“You will apologize – ” she starts, glaring at Chuck, who looks a little taken aback. 

“Wow, Raleigh, you can’t even hold back your little girlfriend,” Chuck says, his words making Raleigh’s blood boil, because Mako has worked so, so hard for this and Chuck has no right to disrespect her like this. “You need to put that bitch on a leash.” 

Now _that_ – that’s not okay. 

Raleigh lunges forward, swinging his fist directly at Chuck’s face, please with the loud snap that reverberates through the hallway. Chuck stumbles backwards, just barely able to keep from falling on his ass. Raleigh considers going for another punch, but stops when he sees Mako shake her head once. He considers ignoring the motion and punching Chuck again – because god knows he deserves it – but that stupid quote of hers flashes through his mind again:

“It’s not obedience, Mr. Becket. It’s respect.” 

Raleigh sighs, but turns his back to Chuck and walks over to Mako. In hindsight, turning his back on Chuck Hansen probably wasn’t his brightest move. Just like before when trying to find a drift partner, however, Chuck knows shit about fighting a guy with one arm. The way Raleigh uses his elbow throws him completely off guard and from there it’s child’s play for Raleigh to trap him with his legs. 

Of course, he’s not terribly surprised that Pentecost and the elder Hansen have heard the scuffle and decide to check it out. Raleigh releases Chuck as per Ranger Hansen’s request before following Mako into Pentecost’s office. 

“You should have let me fight him,” Mako says, her tone soft as they wait for Pentecost to finish talking to the Hansens. “What he said about you was unacceptable.”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before,” Raleigh replies, shrugging. 

“Then why did you react in such a way when he insulted me?” Mako asks, raising one eyebrow, clearly skeptical. 

“Because he shouldn’t have – ” Raleigh starts, only to be cut off by Mako. 

“It’s nothing I have not heard before, Mr. Becket,” she says, parroting back one of his own lines. 

Oh. 

\---

He wants to call Gabriela, wants to work out some of what he’s feeling after his confrontation with Pentecost. Instead he finds Mako. 

Of course, then the double even happens.

\---

It isn’t until Gipsy Danger lands in the water that Raleigh realizes how fucking scared he actually is. It hits him like a wave, all at once overwhelming him. He knows that Mako can feel it too – they’re connected, after all – and he makes no effort to hide it, because, really, what’s the point? He’s not worried about the drift, of course. The neural handshake has already been initiated, and it’s holding strong. Mako isn’t fighting her memories, Raleigh isn’t getting distracted by his, and so it should all be good.

Except it’s not. He’d been so focused on the mental aspect of it – if he’d be able to handle drifting with someone who wasn’t Yancy – that he’d completely neglected worrying about the physical side. Oh, he’s more than competent with only one arm – all of the fighting he’s been doing lately has more than proved that, and although he knows logically that he’ll be fine, anxiety wise it’s completely different. 

“Talk to me,” Mako says suddenly, breaking Raleigh from his thoughts.

“What?” he replies, blinking at her, confused. 

“Talk to me,” Mako repeats, staring straight ahead and not even bothering to glance at him. 

And that’s when Raleigh gets it. 

“We want to disable its electroshock capabilities,” Raleigh says, watching Mako nod out of the corner of his eye. “Go for the back.”

Mako adjusts her stance and they lunge forward. 

It helps – giving Mako instructions. She quickly figures out how to move according to his capabilities, and it almost seems like the Kaiju are thrown off by a left handed Jaeger. It’s a bizarre moment when Raleigh realizes that for once he’s the experienced one and Mako’s the rookie. Not that she’s that much of a rookie, because, god, she’s an amazing pilot. 

Also, the sword thing is new. Raleigh thinks he’s a bit in love. 

\---

Raleigh wishes that his Japanese was better, because hearing Mako speak her native language is like listening to… well, he’s not entirely sure what, because there’s honestly nothing he’s ever head that can even begin to compare. 

\---

When Mako and Raleigh reenter the Shatterdome, it’s to thunderous applause. It’s a little overwhelming – Raleigh’s always been a bit of an introvert – but it’s also pretty damn amazing. It feels good, and Raleigh can already see the pleased flush spreading across Mako’s cheeks as Ranger Hansen reaches out to shake her hand, a look of pride and admiration on his face. 

Of course, then Herc extends his hand for Raleigh to shake. It’s his left one, because his right was injured and is all done up in a sling. Raleigh stares at it awkwardly for a moment, suddenly hyperaware of his own lack of left hand, and then fumbles to shake Herc’s left hand with his right in a way that makes it seem more like they’re holding hands than shaking over a job well done. 

And then Pentecost makes his entrance. 

“Mr. Becket, Ms. Mori,” he calls out, the chaotic cluster of PPDC employees parting before him like the red sea before Moses. “In all of my years fighting…”

Raleigh tenses as Pentecost pauses in front of him, staring at him with an unreadable expression, his tone wavering between pleased and dangerous. Raleigh can’t yet tell if he should start apologizing or thanking the man. 

“… I have _never_ ,” and here Pentecost turns to Mako, his expression softening in what Raleigh can only describe as that of a proud father, “seen anything like that. Well done.”

He murmurs something to Mako that Raleigh can’t quite make out, but she smiles, so he supposes it’s good. 

“But,” Pentecost continues, stepping forward and looking away from the two Jaeger pilots, “as harsh as it sounds, there is no time to celebrate. We lost two crews.” 

Raleigh has a sudden urge to hug his arms to his chest as he thinks of the Wei Tang triplets and the Kaidonovskys lying someone in the wreckage of their Jaegers’ fallen wreckage, but he remembers abruptly that, well, that sort of gesture doesn’t work too well with one arm. It’s been quite a while since he’s forgotten about his arm like this, and he awkwardly hugs his arm to his stomach, trying to gain even a small amount of comfort from that. 

“No time to grieve,” Pentecost says, although Raleigh’s sure he can decipher a bit of grief in the Marshall’s tone already, betraying his words. “Reset that clock.” 

The gathered PPDC members begin to disperse, but Raleigh can’t help but notice the way Mako pointedly rubs her nose, staring at Pentecost. Pentecost in turn blinks in surprise before touching his own nose, and Raleigh’s eyes are sharp enough to notice the way his finger comes back bloody. He’s abruptly reminded of the small bloodstain on his shirt – the one that had appeared after he’d bumped into Pentecost a few days prior.

Raleigh looks to Mako in question, but she makes no move answer him, just giving him a horribly sad expression. 

Raleigh purses his lips and goes after Pentecost. He finds the Marshall in his nearby quarters, washing his face in the sink, and Raleigh’s eyes are immediately drawn to the blood dotting the Marshall’s otherwise pristine shirt collar. 

“How sick are you?” Raleigh asks suddenly, causing Pentecost to glance up at him, although he doesn’t look terribly surprised to see him. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

The Marshall is silent for a moment, just looking at Raleigh – or, rather, his reflection in the mirror of the sink. 

“What’s to tell?” Pentecost says finally with a small grunt. 

“You should know that I, of all people, wouldn’t judge you for it,” Raleigh replies, his mouth set in a disappointed frown. “There’s no weakness in it.” 

“You know, them mark ones, we scraped them bad boys together in fourteen months,” Pentecost starts, an explanation of sorts, although he won’t quite look Raleigh in the eye. “The last thing we were thinking about was radiation shielding. I stayed under the medical radar for a while, but the last mission I ran was Tokyo. I finished the fight solo, but for three hours.”

Pentecost finally looks up at Raleigh, dead in the eye, his gaze unwavering. 

“They warned me if I ever stepped in a Jaeger again the toll would be too much,” the Marshall admits as he unfolds a new, non-bloodstained shirt. “You and I are the only two who ever ran solo combat. That’s why I brought you here.” 

“And look at what it did to us,” Raleigh says softly, and he didn’t mean to say that aloud, but it’s not like he can take it back now. 

And it’s not like it isn’t true. 

“You could have told me, though,” Raleigh repeats, and he wishes that he could cross his arms over his chest now, but he can’t – just another reminder of what they’re discussing. 

“Would it have made any difference?” Pentecost asks, sighing, although he doesn’t sound defensive, which Raleigh supposes is a plus. 

“I find that it helps to talk about it,” Raleigh answers, shrugging. “There are plenty of people here willing to help you if you’d let them. Mako, for one. Dr. Gottlieb gets it. Herc seems to want to help. And, uh, Dr. Mishchenko is a good conversationalist.” 

Raleigh resists his urge to bite his lip as he says the last part. It’s not that he’s actually all that embarrassed about needing psychiatric help, but it’s still a bit of a social stigma, even though Jaeger pilots are typically pleasantly open about their feelings. 

Pentecost studies him for a moment, not saying anything, before he nods. 

Then Tendo calls, and Raleigh braces himself for the worst. 

\---

Raleigh’s glad he braced himself for the worst, because he doesn’t really know what’s worse than a triple event. 

\---

Raleigh’s anxious, jittery, as he waits to be deployed for what will hopefully be his final mission – or, rather, _the_ final mission. Final in a good way, of course. (Or a bad way. It could be either at the moment.) Beside him, Mako looks serene, but Raleigh can instinctively tell that it’s superficial. There’s some nervousness there, the standard stuff, but there’s something else two – a deeper sort of worry which Raleigh is pretty sure is somehow connected to Pentecost. 

“Tendo, I can’t pilot Striker on my own, now can I?” Chuck snaps, and Raleigh sighs, because although he’s been wondering the same thing, Chuck’s yelling is getting a little annoying, even though his frustration is understandable. “Dad’s hurt, so who’s gonna be my copilot?” 

Then, of course, the doors to the Jaeger bay open and Marshall Stacker Pentecost strides through, fully decked out in a sleek Divesuit. The fact that it fits so well speaks volumes, and even if Raleigh hadn’t noticed that, it would be impossible for him not to recognize it from Mako’s memories. Raleigh wonders if Pentecost has had this planned all along and he’s distinctly reminded of the one question the man had asked him after finding him working on the Wall: 

“Would you rather die here, or in a Jaeger?” 

“I figured that if you can do it, so can I,” Pentecost says as he walks over, making steady eye contact with Raleigh. 

Part of Raleigh wants to protest – say that there’s a difference, because he can survive getting back in a Jaeger, but Pentecost’s condition is a death sentence. He doesn’t say it, though, because he knows that that won’t change the man’s mind and he knows how much of a hypocrite those words would make him – he who has fought this long and hard to prove that he can finish this battle. So instead of saying anything, he just nods. 

Pentecost nods back, a polite acknowledgement, and then pulls Mako to the side for a moment, placing his hand on her shoulder in the sort of tender gesture that Raleigh’s never seen from him before. He pets her hair and Raleigh politely turns away as he begins to talk to her, glad that the Marshall has decided to take at least some of his advice. 

He can see the tears gathering in Mako’s eyes, one slipping down her cheek as she sniffles slightly before recomposing herself as Pentecost pulls away again, both of them switching back into their professional personas. Raleigh can’t imagine how hard this must be for her, because he knows that if he was aware that Yancy was going to die that day off the coast of Alaska, he would have selfishly tried to hold his brother back, no matter the consequences. 

As Pentecost positions himself for his final, great speech, Raleigh moves forward to stand beside Mako. He wants to comfort her, wants to lay a hand on the small of her back, to sweep her up into his arms and never let her go, but that’s not what she needs right now. Instead, he stands beside her and hopes that whatever small amount of strength he has gets transferred to her, because although she doesn’t need it, it just might help. 

He’ll help her mourn when the battle is won. 

(Or lost.)

\---

“I never really thought about the future until now,” Raleigh admits as he and Mako secure themselves in the cockpit. “I never did have very good timing.” 

He wants to say, “I want to have you in my future. I want you to _be_ my future,” but he’s not quite brave enough to do so. 

She knows anyway. He can feel it.

\---

The rest of the mission passes mostly in a blur. It’s adrenaline fueled – there’s no time for doubt or deliberation. The one moment he hangs onto is _the_ moment – the one where Chuck and Pentecost say goodbye. 

“Sensei, aishiteimasu.” 

Mako’s final words to her father ring in Raleigh’s ears, and he knows they have to get out of this alive. They have to finish this, to make that sacrifice count. Because those two words Mako uttered – those little words – mean that she’s just lost the most important person in her life. That the most important person to Mako gave everything up for this. 

But then they’re inside the rift and Mako’s losing oxygen. She has to survive this, so Raleigh does the only logical thing and gives up her his own oxygen. She’s done all of the heavy lifting here – all he has to do is fall. It’s simple enough. 

Or, at least, it was until he needed to override the reactor manually. 

Climbing up to the reactor core is the hardest thing he’s ever done. He’s suddenly strangely grateful for the years he spent working on the wall, because he’s absolutely certain that without that experience navigating and climbing the narrow ledges, he wouldn’t be able to do this. 

He can, though. He can do this. 

As he finally reaches the nuclear core, he has to bite back a sigh of relief, because the job’s not over yet. His arm aches and his vision is going fuzzy from lack of oxygen. He has to crawl across the floor to get to it, but he’s far beyond caring. 

He’s almost not able to wrench the door to the reactor compartment open. He’s so weak from lack of oxygen and he does only have one arm. It takes him three tries, but he gets it. It’s all he can do to arm the reactor. 

He closes his eyes. 

“Raleigh!” a familiar voice – a beautiful voice – yells and he’s startled back to consciousness, even though it’s still a half asleep, foggy sort of consciousness. 

“Talk to me,” he croaks, because that’s all he can think at the moment. 

“You have to get to the escape pod,” the voice – Mako’s voice, he blearily realizes – commands and Raleigh finds himself obeying, finds himself stumbling to his feet. “You have to hurry.” 

It takes a moment, a precious moment, but he manages to find the pod and manages to strap himself into it. 

“I’m – I’m there,” he croaks as he fumbles with the buttons on it. “I – ”

“Hit the eject button!” she says.

He does. 

\---

When Raleigh wakes up, it takes him a moment to realize where he is. The walls are blindingly white, as are the bed sheets and the rest of the room. 

Well, all except for a distinct patch of black with familiar blue streaks. 

“You’re awake,” Mako says softly from her position at his bedside. 

“Yeah,” Raleigh croaks, idly noting that Mako isn’t in her Divesuit anymore. “How long have I been out?”

“About a day,” Mako answers, and Raleigh abruptly realizes how close she is. “You scared me. Dr. Kiu is worried about brain damage.” 

“Well, do I seem brain damaged to you?” Raleigh asks, trying to smile at her, although his entire face hurts for reasons unknown. 

“I’m not a doctor,” Mako replies, one eyebrow raised, although Raleigh can see a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. 

Raleigh suddenly feels something around his hand constrict and he glances down at where it’s lying on top of the bed sheets, suddenly panicked that he’d injured it somehow. Only, when he looks down he doesn’t see any bandages on it – only Mako’s fingers tangled with his as he squeezes his hand softly. 

“It’s still there,” Mako says, following his gaze and sounding a bit amused. 

“Yeah,” Raleigh answers, embarrassed by his less than intelligent answer. 

Mako just laughs and places a light kiss on his temple.

**Author's Note:**

> _I do not give permission to have any of my works put up on goodreads or any other such site._


End file.
